When the Red Phone Rings
by Mark Horne
Summary: Lord Voldemort is forced to flee England and settles in an unusual place as he plots his revenge. Timeline is AU. Post book 4. Inspired by a bumper sticker.
1. March 22, 2009 3:12 am Washington, DC

_March 22, 2009 3:12 a.m. Washington, D.C._

In a particular room of a particular house there slept soundly a couple, protected from observing eyes by a silk curtain drawn around their four-post bed. Those same eyes would instead take in the rest of the particulars of the room. It was decorated in almost a colonial style. There was no carpet, only hardwood. The walls were adorned by a few sparse portraits of men and women dressed in a way that the modern eye would describe as antiquated. Indeed there were none of the luxuries of the modern world, not even electric lights. If there were to be any light in this room it would have to be produced by the myriad candles to be found on every appropriate flat surface.

There were two distortions to the antiquity of this room. One was hidden to all eyes. It was a security camera fitted into the ceiling that gave a panoramic view to a number of monitors located in the subbasement of the house. Even now those same monitors were being watched by three men and one woman who were relieved that nothing was out of the ordinary. The other distortion was a bright red phone sitting on the nightstand on the left side of the bed. As unobtrusive as its gaudy color would allow, this phone might be ignored on most occasions. Tonight however, it plays an important part. It is from this phone that our story begins.

The red phone perched snuggly on the nightstand let out a dreadful ring. Before it could till a second time, a white hand with long, hook-like fingers snatched it up and took the receiver to the earless, noseless head.

"What situation disturbs my slumber?" said the man, in a dark, venomous tone. The caller made an audible gulp. The man ran his slim tongue along the edge of his teeth and felt the anxiety of the man on the other end of the line.

"Mr. President, er, excuse me sir, Lord President. The Russians have moved forces into Kosovo. It seems they might be attempting to return the territory to Serbian control."

There was a long pause from the president, followed by a low hiss. Beads of sweat appeared on the caller's forehead. This was the first time the caller had addressed the president, and he was fearful that all the rumors he had heard of the terrible things that had befallen messengers bearing bad news were true. The pause lingered a moment more and then the president spoke.

"Three weeks after their diplomat assured me of peace. But such treachery was foretold. I could feel the betrayal oozing from behind his eyes. I should have plucked them from his skull then," hissed the president. "Prepare the Chamber of War. I will arrive there in five minutes."

"Yes, sir," came the stammered reply.

The president replaced the phone with an elegant flourish and then fixed his lidless eyes on the lithe form of his wife, Bellatrix LeStrange. She squirmed under his gaze and then sat up, her black teddy leaving little to the imagination. "My lord?" she asked in a sleepy tone, a tumble of black hair obscuring part of her face.

A thin smile crept across the president's face. He stared at her for a long moment, taking in her form, watching the tremble in the veins on her neck as blood pumped through them. The pheromones coming off of her were nearly distracting. "The Russians have betrayed me. They will face dread retribution. I would Cruccio their Prime Minister myself if the accursed UN wouldn't complain." He rose from the bed and moved through the silk curtains.

Bellatrix sniffed, but kept her Occlumency shields strong. There was a time when Lord Voldemort would have Cruccio'd the UN as well for sport. She pulled the divan made of Egyptian silk tighter around her body. With a flick of her magic she kept the curtain open so she could watch him make his away across the room. His form was skeletally thin and pale as bleached bone. He was clothed only in red boxers, and she found the sight of his emaciated form to be overwhelming.

He turned from her and floated across the room to his closet. He seldom walked anymore, except at public events, mostly to flex his magic, but also because it unnerved his staff and he enjoyed the taste of their fear. The dark lord picked out his favorite suit – a black pinstripe perfectly tailored to his form, even without magic. Against his nature he found himself impressed by the Muggle tailors at his disposal. The palace chefs were also quite talented, although they could not produce butterbeer or pumpkin juice. His displeasure, and its consequences, had been subdued when they introduced him to brandy. The dark president picked a silk tie, black of course, and with his dexterous fingers wrapped it around his neck. It was held in place by a tie tack in the shape of the dark mark. It was the one place he was allowed to have it. His handlers had said that the symbol of a snake bursting from the mouth of a skull did not poll well with the elderly, independents, and Hispanics. Bikers were much impressed, but they were hardly a key voting bloc.

Dressed, the dark lord counted the final moments and when it was exactly five minutes he apparated to the Chamber of War located three stories underground.

The generals and advisors were already on their feet when he appeared. They were a quick study and knew their president was impeccably punctual.

The president lit up in a sinister gin at their display of loyalty. No Imperius was necessary for them to obey his every command. "At ease," he said in his naturally icy voice, and then proceeded to glide to the head of the table.

"I wish a status report and quickly, minions."


	2. June 12, 2007 10:37 pm

_June 12, 2007 10:37 p.m. Undisclosed location, 22 miles northeast of London, England._

"_Lumos_!"

The bed chamber was suddenly awash with light. Voldemort snapped awake, cursing Merlin, and then just as quickly calling for his wand. Nothing happened. Bellatrix awoke just a quickly at the sound and light and screamed hoarsely. His blindness faded and Voldemort was touched by the unfamiliar feeling of fear.

In front of him stood Albus Dumbledore, Lucius Malfoy, and Rodolphus LeStrange who was seething with anger. Lucius wore his typical look of smug self-satisfaction and even Dumbledore seemed pleased. Behind those three were more people, all dressed in the regalia of Death Eaters.

"What treachery is this?" demanded the dark lord, as he sat up in bed. The sheet covering them slipped away and the pair was clearly exposed.

"None at all," said Lucius icily. He gave Voldemort a disdainful look. "Rather this is your just reward for your treachery of us."

"I knew it! I knew she was cheating on me! I'll kill you, you stupid bi-"

"Calm yourself Rodolphus," said Dumbledore, in a grandfatherly manner. "Anger will only get in the way of the proceedings. We will of course allow you full rights under pureblood law to do what you like with your wife, but Tom here is the first priority."

Bellatrix hissed, and might have leapt for her husband's throat, but for Voldemort's blocking arm and stern glare. "I have no treachery on my conscience Malfoy," sneered Voldemort. "I demand you explain yourself and why Albus was allowed into my sanctuary unmolested."

Lucius gave Dumbledore a wry grin. "Oh, he's only unmolested for the moment." The two shared a deep, lingering kiss and Lucius slipped a hand into Dumbledore's robes. Voldemort gapped and Bellatrix squirmed beside him, uncomfortable with her sudden arousal.

"You see Tom," said Dumbledore, breaking the kiss. "While your cause of pureblood superiority is a noble one, you're going about it in all the wrong way. Violence is so noisy and messy. I prefer a subtle touch, as does Lucius and the other old, wealthy families with estates to lose when you fail. And really Tom don't you find it strange for a halfblood like yourself to be promoting pureblood supremacy? I would surmise that you are a bit unhinged. That and the freakish means to your boring goals. Immortality at the expense of looking like a snakish monster? Disappointing Tom, just disappointing."

"Your tendency to torture your followers was also a turn-off," said Lucious. "The only punishment I've gotten from Alby is a swift spanking." He giggled, and Dumbledore followed suit. Voldemort felt as though he might vomit.

"There's more inspiring ways to lead a band of followers than fear," said Dumbledore, his tone again serious. "Have you tried love? I don't mean the dirty thing you share with Bellatrix there," Bellatrix growled _Cruccio_ but without her wand it had no effect. "Who is quite lovely without clothes, for a woman anyway, but I mean love. You wouldn't have, of course, you don't believe in it. Happiness is also useful for getting people to see things your way. Fear, pain, all that dark nonsense, why that is really only good for a temporary effect, and then an inevitable betrayal. Much like the one you're experiencing right now. But on to more important things. Tom, I have been putting together a very large puzzle for most of my life and you have come uncomfortably close to ruining it. But you have also made yourself an important piece. I cemented myself as Headmaster of Hogwarts on the defeat of Grindelwald. I think you will get me Minister of Magic."

"But the boy, the prophecy …" rasped Voldemort. Fear squirmed in his belly like a thrashing eel. He had not seen any of this, and he had been a master of deceit, of knowing lies. He had trusted no one, but he had never suspected a plot of this magnitude could creep upon him so effortlessly. His thoughts raced through the various options open to him. If only he could keep Dumbledore talking, he could buy some time.

"I'm glad you brought them up. If you had developed a taste for subtlety you might appreciate the way in which I wrapped the most famous wizard of our time around my little finger. I, the mentor of Harry Potter, destined to defeat Lord Voldemort, will make an excellent Minister of Magic. And what's more, after that little half-blood turns dark, and I can assure you he will," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "The populous will be begging for laws curtailing half-blood rights. And the proper man will be in place for that." He gave the dark lord a wink. "Two half-blood dark lords in a generation? 'Madness,' they'll say. 'Something must be in muggle blood. Don't let them work, or go to school. Why not lock them up? Deport them! Kill them!'"

Lucius was looking longingly at the older man. The other Death Eaters murmured their approval in the background.

Dumbledore continued to smile widely. "In time we may even be able to go to war against the Muggles themselves, though I think I may have retired by then. Do you feel up to that task Lucius?"

"I'm always up around you," crooned Lucius, giving his silky locks a flip. The Headmaster of Hogwarts gave the younger man a seductive look.

Voldemort hissed and all wands pointed back at him. He saw only one way out of this. He would not return to a state of half-death again.

"I'll feast on your beating heart Dumbledore! And you as well Lucius! You have not seen the last of me!" Voldemort grasped Bellatrix and then activated his pillow which was actually an international portkey. As they vanished a dozen Reductos ripped through the bed, turning it into a pile of rubble.

"Enough!" cried Dumbledore. He retrieved the pillow, inspected it carefully, as one might read a book, and after a few minutes scowled. "It was a one use portkey and what's more it's destination was random. It will be impossible to track him! Blithering humdingers!" He cursed.

"Calm yourself, Alby," said Lucius. "We needed him gone, and he is. Fear of Potter caused him to flee. Now that Potter is known as the Chosen One it fits. And the next best thing to a dead dark lord is a cowardly one."

Dumbledore nodded to himself and stroked his immense beard. "As usual you are right Lucius. It is remarkable your ability to calm me." He turned back to the other Death Eaters. "Come brothers and sisters. We will remain vigilant for the dearly departed Tom Riddle, but let us also begin to sow these fortuitous seeds."


	3. June 12, 2007 5:43 pm EST

_June 12th 10:43 p.m. English time, 5:43 p.m. Easter Standard Washington, D.C._

Voldemort and Bellatrix appeared out of thin air and toppled into a dumpster. They were both naked and wandless.

Fortunately it was warm weather. Above them hung lines of muggle clothing drying in the light breeze. Leaving Bellatrix, Voldemort flew straight up and snatched an armful of clothes. He deposited his haul - a sun dress with blue polka dots, a pair of jeans, and a turtleneck on the ground in front of them.

Bellatrix gagged. "Muggle clothing is so disgusting."

The dark lord nodded solemnly. "Dumbledore will suffer for this indignity!" He made sure to snatch up the jeans and turtleneck before Bellatrix could. She winced as she watched him dress and gave a bitter look to the sun dress.

"Wear it!" he snapped. "We must blend in and make our way to the wizarding section of this hovel undetected!"

Disgust for the dress and the desire to obey her lord competed fiercely, but reluctantly she donned the dress. "The colors are so bright! You can see so much of my skin! This is wretched and hideous! A pox on muggles!"

Voldemort cast a dangerous gaze on Bellatrix. When she did not notice his look and continued to rave about muggles and their taste in colors he unfurled his lips and said "Silence!"

Bella realized the error she had just made and immediately quieted and pressed against the wall in a near ball, expecting the Cruciatius at any moment. Without his wand, though, there would be no such punishment. All the dark lord did was shake a bit and glare very sternly at her.

"Our manner of dress is the least of our concerns. We are located in an unknown cavernous muggle city. We must find the wizarding section, procure wands and establish a base from which we can extract our revenge on those traitors and the despicable Dumbledore."

Bellatrix became flushed and her black heart began to beat faster. "May I kill Rudolphus, dread lord?"

Voldemort smiled a thin, sinister smile. "When he is dead, you will no longer be my concubine. I shall take you as my wife. You shall be my property and no one else's."

Her hands flew to her cheeks and her wide blue eyes glistened with moisture. Voldemort was please that she was silent at last, but it was fleeting as she flung herself at him and covered his wicked face with kisses.

"My lord, that honor is too great for once such as me!" She licked the spot were a nose should have been. "I am not worthy of your ownership!" She forced her tongue into his mouth, quite a feat considering his clenched teeth. Despite her passionate liplock, she still kept talking, forcing praise after compliment literally down his throat. The dark lord was almost too flabbergasted to react. Doubtlessly it would have been a punishment for her unorthodox display. She would not suffer it though, for a uniformed man approached them.

"Hey! Hold it right there!" The man shouted. The words were understandable to both wizards, though the accent was clearly not British. The kiss broke and the pair turned to the man. He continued approaching.

"You are both under arrest for prostitution and solicitation. Hands against the wall!" shouted the man.

"Clearly a local muggle," sneered Voldemort. "Perhaps some kind of Auror."

"You speak to the dark lord Voldemort, muggle! Kneel and cower and you may be spared his wrath."

"Lady, I don't care if I'm speaking to the pope. Hands against –" The officer was now close enough to clearly see Voldemort. "Sweet Jesus, no wonder you need a hooker. You a burn victim or something? Don't look at me like that freak. Hands against the wall!"

The muggle pulled an object from his belt and waved it at the two of them. Voldemort was close enough to see the whites of his eyes, and that was all he needed. He tore through the shieldless mind of the muggle with his Legimancy. Bellatrix felt the tingle of magic and shuddered with pleasure.

"You will take us to the wizarding section of this city."

The object dropped from the man's hand and he stared blankly. "I will take you to the wizards of this city," he intoned. Then the man turned and walked down the alley. Voldemort bent and picked up the curious muggle object. He skimmed the mind of the muggle and learned of its purpose as an instrument of death. Gingerly, he placed the weapon in the pocket of his jeans.

"What is that?" asked Bellatrix.

Voldemort sneered. "It is a muggle device that produces an effect similar to the Reducto spell. It is not magical of course, but seems to be capable of wounding and killing if operated correctly."

He rose and continued to the end of the alley. A large object blocked most of the entrance and the muggle was moving around it. From the muggle's memories he plucked the knowledge of this object.

"This is a muggle transportation device," he said to Bellatrix. The police officer opened the door to the cruiser and Voldemort and Bellatrix took seats in the back. The witch took in the strange sights with a furrowed brow and clenched teeth.

"It's like I'm in Azkaban again!" she said in a frenzied tone and she grabbed the grates shielding the windows and shook them furiously.

"I demand you calm yourself!" snapped Voldemort "Quell your feelings lest I enter your mind and do it myself. This device does transport muggle criminals, but we are not destined for a prison. This muggle will take us where we desire. Is that correct, muggle?"

"Yes lord," said the police officer mechanically. The car started and they pulled off into the street.

The drive was a bumpy one as the streets were clogged with other cars. They traveled no more than a dozen feet at a time before having to stop. Bellatrix began to twitch and shake. Her neck craned in all directions. She tugged at her hair and began to make unintelligible noises. Voldemort rolled his eyes and with a flash of movement seized her by the throat and forcibly turned her to face him. Easily shattering her Occlemency shields he pushed her into a deep sleep.

"Silence at last."

He enjoyed the continuation of the ride and pondered how muggles managed to accomplish anything given their lengthy travel requirements. He entertained himself by observing the towering buildings that surrounded him. As the sky began to darken and the muggle was still driving, he became annoyed.

"Muggle! Where are we traveling to?"

"Wizards," the man spoke.

Voldemort glared and scanned the man's mind. He then let out a cry of rage loud enough to wake Bellatrix.

"M…my lord? Where are we? What causes you torment?"

"This muggle isn't taking us to the wizarding section of this city. He's taking us to a muggle sporting arena! Bah, the Washington Wizards are no such thing! Let us out here!"

The police officer stopped abruptly and Voldemort exited onto the sidewalk with Bellatrix. "Useless muggle," he muttered. "Go cheat on your wife." The officer leapt from the vehicle and began making lecherous advances towards the nearest female. She shrieked and ran as the officer attempted to paw her. Voldemort cackled briefly.

As passing muggles stared at the pair, Voldemort took in his surroundings. In front of them was a typical towering muggle building of concrete and glass. Emblazoned across the front above the ornate rotating doors was "Republican National Office."

Bellatrix glared and hissed at the muggles watching them, but Voldemort was taken in by the building. He drew in air through his nostrils and exhaled slowly. "I sense power from this place. And magic. We may be near others of our kind."

"My lord, we must make haste! There are muggles everywhere, we must escape them! Draw your muggle Reducto device and drive them away!"

"I demand you calm yourself Bellatrix! We will enter this muggle building and attempt to discern the location of the wizarding district. Perhaps this is even the muggle's ministry building. It appears droll enough to be such."

With a grand stride he pushed his way through the revolving door. Bella was reluctant to follow, but the prospect of being left alone with throngs of muggles forced her to follow.

The lobby of the building was fairly ornate, but the dark wizard was mystified by the decorator's pre-occupation with the color red and elephants. The animal was pictured prominently on red, blue, and white banners. Stars were also featured in the décor with abandon. Bellatrix took her place at her master's side and he leaned in to speak to her. "These muggles are of a particularly bizarre sect. The use of the elephant leads me to believe they are in touch with the Hindu wizards of India. Perhaps they know of the wizarding community here. I will pluck the knowledge from this puppet like a butterbear from the barkeep's fingers."

The puppet to which he refereed was a pretty, but bored looking blonde woman sitting at a desk. The dark lord scanned her mind with ease. Her surface thoughts were "Who are these freaks, I hope my shift ends soon," and "My boyfriend had better not forget my birthday." Voldemore dug deeper. With little effort he learned the true purpose of this building. It housed the governing body of one of the major groups that struggled for ruling power over the muggle government of the country called America. Voldemort was not familiar with America, but this woman was convinced that it was the mightiest of muggle nations. She knew nothing of the wizarding world. Voldemort was disappointed, but not discouraged. A lackey such as herself would not know of such things, but she could still be used to access the inner sanctum of this place in which he could learn the location of the Hindu wizards.

As he was already in her mind, Voldemort found it easy to Confund her into leading them further into the building. He beckoned to Bella and followed the weak-minded muggle as she stood up robotically and moved towards a hallway with little grace. She lead them a little way until she stopped at a wall with a long crack running down the center of it. The woman pressed a square to the right of the wall and it split open, revealing a small room. She then entered. Bellatrix looked warily at the mirrored walls and enclosed space, but went in, following Voldemort. The wall closed again and the muggle woman pressed another square on the inside wall. The square lit up and the ground seemed to move underneath them.

"My dark lord! This is some trick!" squealed Bellatrix.

Voldemort groaned. "Hardly. We are merely in some sort of muggle transportation device. Rather than walk up stairs we are being propelled to an upper floor."

"Their machines cannot be trusted; they are as fallible as the muggles themselves."

"I agree, but I think in this instance we will survive. They would not entrust their most important leaders with faulty contraptions. Look there, that note says this machine was just inspected three months ago." Voldemort pointed to a piece of paper attached to the wall. Bellatrix turned to read it, but then the elevator stopped and the doors opened again. The secretary stepped out and turned to the right down another passage without checking to see if the two were following. She stopped several doors down and knocked loudly on a door labeled "Chairman of the Republican Party: Michael Duncan."

When no answer was forthcoming, she barged into the room. Voldemort and Bellatrix followed behind her. Two men were in close conversation and turned to face the trio.

"What in the blue hell are you doing Lindsey?!" said the man on the left, a graying, older-middle aged man of medium build adorned in a light brown suit. He looked like the sort that could be a banker or attorney. The man on the right was heavy set and considerably ugly. He had a face for radio. Voldemort reached out with his mind to the man on the left and to his surprise encountered a fairly strong Occlumency shield.

The thinner man immediately stiffened when he felt the dark magic and when he got a good look at Voldemort.

"Mike, what's going on here?" asked the other man. "What kind of help do you have here?"

Mike turned back to his companion. "Rush, listen, I'm going to have to get back to you. This is an urgent meeting I forgot about. I'll call you." He stood and offered his hand to the other man.

Rush shook it hesitantly and glowered at the three people standing in the doorway. Bellatrix loudly hissed and barred her teeth.

"I'm disappointed with the company you keep, Mike. I wouldn't listen to my program tomorrow if I were you."

Mike sighed loudly and hurried past them. "Please take a seat, this will only be a second." A wand slid into his open hand. He moved into the hallway at a brisk pace. Voldemort and Bella sat on the comfortable leather couch and heard Mike talking loudly.

"Rush! Rush! Hey, listen can you hold on a minute? Thanks, listen, this isn't personal. _Oblivate!_" there was a brief pause. "Ok, go home and take a few OxyContin. I'll set up another meeting with you tomorrow."

A moment later he returned, straightened his suit and sat down across from the dark pair. "I see you've Confunded my secretary. Would you mind sending her away and dispelling the charm? Then we can get down to business."

Voldemort nodded and waved his hand at Lindsey. She turned and mechanically walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Thank you. I believe I've seen your face before, I think it was in the British wizarding press. Lord Voldemort, I presume?"

"You are correct. And this is Bellatrix Lestrange, my lieutenant."

Mike leaned back in his chair. "It's not everyday a dark lord walks into my office. What can I do for you?"

"We," Voldemort hesitated, trying to decide on the particular words that would depict his circumstances, but not show weakness. "Wish to find the wizarding community of this city. Give us directions."

The chairman cocked an eyebrow and twirled his wand in his fingers. "Let me guess. Secret mission? You didn't find out where you were going ahead of time? And you show up here of all places, dressed like idiots, and wandless?"

Bellatrix leaped to her feet, the straps of the ill-fitting sundress falling off her shoulders. "Sniveling coward! Beg on your knees for mercy! _Curcio_!"

When nothing happened Mike Duncan smirked again, stood slowly and pressed the tip of his wand to her neck. "Threats, my dear, will get you nowhere. I suggest sitting down."

Voldemort grabbed her by the wrist and forced her down. "I am not one to be trifled with, Mr. Duncan."

The chairman fixed a stern gaze on Voldemort. "Nor. Am. I." He sat back down. "I command the full power of the Republican Party. And if you think I am the entire representation of the wizarding world in the party, you are sorely mistaken. I could have half a dozen hit wizards in here in a moment's notice. And if they weren't enough, well, you haven't seen what the CIA is capable of. Now, tell me the truth."

Bellatrix was seething with anger beside him. Despite his infinite bravado, Voldemort was no fool. He recognized his position of weakness. "Yes, we are at your mercy, Mr. Chairman. I was betrayed most foully by my minions and by portkey was forced to flee here in an … unprepared state. I seek the means to re-equip myself and bring suffering to the traitors in England."

Mike pursed his lips and tapped his wand against them. "Revenge is the noblest of causes. Perhaps I can assist you with it, if you would be willing to assist me with something."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. He would fall for no trap and be no one's slave. "Name your terms."

The other man smiled. "Good. Next year there is an election to determine the leader of this country. My party is presently in power, but our leader has, well, become unpopular with the people. We are in jeopardy of losing control of this fair nation, and to make matters worse we have no one really worthy of the role of president. No one that is truly a leader of men, and can inspire a populace. I think you could be that man."

Voldemort was truly surprised at this development and it would not take a master of Legimancy to notice it. "You wish that I rule a nation of muggles? Why would I desire such a thing?"

"This is no ordinary muggle nation, and you would do well to give them more credit. The muggles are not a race to be trifled with any more, and as president you would have sway over 300 million of them."

"Three hundred million? Impossible, muggles could never survive to reach that kind of breeding potential!" said Bellatrix.

"Oh they have my dear, and more over they have weapons that dwarf anything that magic is capable of. But if that doesn't persuade you, then let me ask, what is the wizarding population of Britain?"

"Five thousand," replied Voldemort.

Mike snorted. "In America we have 250,000 wizards. You would hold power over them. I think amongst that group you might find a few who would be able to assist you in your revenge."

Voldemort's eyes widened. "But what of the wizarding ministry? Surely they would not be inclined to allow my rule. And why bother with the human government when I could have direct control of the magical government."

Mike twirled his wand between his fingers again. "The magical government here is far removed from what it is in Britain. There is no nation-wide system. It is fragmented, and fights against itself. Certainly there are groups that are larger and more powerful than the government in Britain, but nevertheless, you would immediately be embroiled in regional power struggles. Also there are many groups that relish the idea of one of their own kind ruling the muggles, even if it were to be in secret. Perhaps you could unify them, but you would be in a stronger position to do so if you were ruler of the entire nation."

"Your offer is intriguing. Yes, I will accept. I shall lead the Republican Party to victory and crush your adversaries."

Bella cringed, but Mike Duncan grinned from ear to ear, rose and extended his hand. Voldemort did the same and they shook vigorously.

"Wonderful! There will be much that has to be done. We will have to get you an American identity with all the proper paperwork. And I'll need to explain the particulars of American politics and the primary season. Do you have a muggle name already? You can keep Voldemort, just perhaps as a middle name. We'll say your mother has French ancestry. Let's discuss this over dinner. I know a good place, but we'll need to get you some new clothes. I think my wife is about your size, Bellatrix, and she's back in Kentucky so she won't mind."

He led them from the room, talking incessantly. All Voldemort could think of was the power that awaited him and the horrors he would inflict on Dumbledore. Bellatrix was more concerned about the prospect of having to wear even more muggle clothes.


End file.
